


Containment

by cerebel



Category: Incredible Hulk (2008), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Porn Battle, Threesome, shameless porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 22:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerebel/pseuds/cerebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn battle fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Containment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the porn battle at cerebel_fics.dreamwidth.org. Prompts: toy, hold him down.

Bruce’s teeth are clenched, eyes shut, and Tony sees his fingers curl, nails leaving imprints on the restraints, soft leather fixing Bruce to the headboard of Tony’s bed. 

“That’ll leave a mark,” then, to his companion, “you sure we won’t—”

“He’s fine,” says Emil Blonsky, eyes fixed steady as a snake on his target. On Bruce Banner.

“You two do not know what you’re doing,” insists Bruce, weakly. His resistance is waning, fading fast, and Tony can only guess what Blonsky’s fingers are doing, down between Bruce’s legs.

There’s a shift of muscles in Blonsky’s arm, tendons showing against the skin. Bruce makes an incredible sort of whining gasp – 

“You can’t,” and Bruce’s breath is more of a sob, now.

“Right,” says Tony, “that’s enough,” and slips the gag into Bruce’s mouth. 

Blonsky moves down next to Bruce, and Bruce looks like he’s enjoying this far too much – Tony is a little reluctant. It’d be a little like having sex with a Jericho missile. He really would rather the Hulk not rampage through his house. Again.

“You’re just a toy,” murmurs Blonsky, in Bruce’s ear. “Just a sweet little toy, do you like that?”

Bruce shoots Blonsky a glare, and it would be lethal, but he twists, desperate; he wants so badly, and Blonsky grins. Like a predator.

“You’re nuts, you know that?” asks Tony.

Blonsky’s eyes flash, and he trails a finger up Tony’s stomach, to the generator, lingers – “You like it,” says Blonsky, “as much as he does.” Tilts his head. “Maybe we’ll have you tied up next.”

“Oh yeah,” says Tony, “you can try.”

…and Blonsky seems quite confident, in the way he nips the inside of Bruce’s thigh. “I don’t try,” he says, with a glance up at Tony Stark. “I do.”

Bruce is making these strange, broken noises, and Tony sees, suddenly, that Blonsky has four fingers inside Bruce. And then the thumb, just barely – Bruce twitches, and he closes his eyes, hiding his face in the crook of his arm. His knuckles are white.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” and Tony pulls him back. “Ignoring people is impolite.”

“Hold him.” Blonsky’s voice is cool.

Tony does, feeling abstractly awkward. How is Blonsky calling the shots here?

But suddenly, Bruce bucks, practically screaming into the gag. Close to hyperventilating. And lord above, Blonsky must have his entire hand…

“You holding on?” Blonsky asks Bruce.

Bruce manages a nod. 

“Don’t,” says Blonsky, and Tony sees his hand shift.

Bruce comes, twisting nearly out of Tony’s grip. Shivers and shakes, but when his eyes open, there’s not a hint of green. Blonsky did it, the little bastard. He pushed Bruce right to the limit, but not past it.

The tackle takes Tony utterly by surprise. Blonsky is on top of him before Tony can think of anything to say about it, and then Blonsky is fisting Tony’s (oh-so-very-hard) erection, far too rough, like yanking Tony’s pleasure out of him with the force of a runaway train. 

“Oh, fuck,” Tony gasps, before Blonsky’s tongue is in his mouth. 

He has an image, of Blonsky in the cell, in the basement, as he’s been for the past few months. This is the best facility SHIELD has, after all, and Blonsky’s been a prisoner here, hand pressed against the glass, watching everything he could see. He’s not supposed to be free, he’s supposed to be under Tony’s control, and wow this was such a bad idea, Tony can definitely see that now only, only, only –

The orgasm is blinding. Literally, white-light, temporary paralysis kind of blinding. Tony probably will be sore tomorrow, though, at the moment, he can’t really think what specific muscles he’s overexerted.

“You, uh,” he says, waving a hand at Blonsky. “You.”

Blonsky smirks. 

Tony definitely has to put him back in the cell. Right now. But he has the feeling Blonsky has the upper hand, psychologically – no, sexually speaking. 

Doesn’t matter. Tony will definitely be able to keep him contained. Definitely.

…oh, who does he think he’s kidding.


End file.
